


Pierce the Vein

by TricksterNag1to



Series: Chainsmokers AU [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Blood, F/M, Komaeda's only here for like a minute then they fucking ditch him, Lowkey Dog Kink, Name-Calling, Praise Kink, Souda kinda nearly dies but he's okay, Vaginal Fingering, i'm sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterNag1to/pseuds/TricksterNag1to
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Souda, you’re so kind, he upset me sooo much! How can I thank you?” </p><p>The look on her face tells him she knows exactly how she’s going to do it. </p><p>She can almost see his heart speed up.</p><p>He looks completely awestruck as she leans into his arms, pretty solid with muscle, and ghosts her lips up his jaw to his earlobe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pierce the Vein

Her boys are already in the parking lot when she pulls up in her flashy red sports car, sitting a solid two feet away from each other. Souda is determinedly looking away, while Komaeda appears to be talking with his hands, trying to capture his attention, and Junko has to laugh - they sure are something.

 

Komaeda is too busy gesticulating wildly to notice the click of her heels on the pavement, but Souda looks up from the ground and his whole face lights up.

 

“Miss Junko!” he calls, scrambling to his feet. She offers him a cheery wave and puts a little extra sway in her hips, relishing the way his eyes travel up and down her body as she walks. Eventually, she reaches them, and loops her arms around Souda’s neck; his own hands come to sit almost reverently on her waist. She could just eat him up, the way he’s looking at her - awe and fear and lust all in one. She loves the power rush. Feeling Komaeda’s eyes on her, she leans in and brushes her lips feather-light against Souda’s, not giving him time to kiss back before pulling away. 

 

“Souda, is Komaeda bothering you?” she simpers, shooting Komaeda a smirk. He glares back. 

 

The mechanic doesn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah, Miss Junko,” he complains. “He’s been talkin’ fuckin’ nonsense about life and death and philosophy an’ shit, it’s makin’ my head hurt!” By the time he finishes talking, he’s let go of her waist to hold his head in his hands, fingers scrunched up in his beanie. She raises a finger to his lips to shush him and turns her head to the side.

 

“Komaeda, is this true?” Her voice is dangerously low as she speaks. Seemingly unaffected by this, Komaeda nods with a smile. “Nagito.” His eyes narrow at the harshness of the word. “Stop fucking around with Souda, ‘kay? It’s  _ totally  _ lame!” In an instant, she’s back to her usual bubbly self, and she unwinds herself from Souda to strut over to Komaeda. She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek - he’s gotten so tall, he’s almost six feet compared to her five and a half - and he rolls his eyes.

 

“You may be talented compared to filth like me, but your lack of common decency is appalling,” he says simply. 

 

Junko pouts. “Komaaaaaedaaaa!” she whines. 

 

“Don’t talk to her like that, asshole!” 

 

Souda is between them suddenly, pushing not Junko away, but Komaeda. He knows what happens if he touches her the wrong way. She smiles, saccharine, and plays with a strand of hair from her pigtail. Turning red, he looks instead to Komaeda, hardening his resolve. 

 

“Do you have a problem, Souda?” he asks, smiling. 

“Yeah, asshole, I’ve got a problem! You can’t just talk to her like that! She’s a goddamn  _ girl _ , you can’t talk to girls like that, especially  _ Enoshima _ -”

 

“I can take it from here, Souda,” she butts in, her nail trailing down his neck. He turns red and shuts up, and she turns to the other boy. “You know, I admire you a hell of a lot, right, Komaeda?” He gives her a blank look, so she continues. “You’re so smart, and sweet, and cute…” Here she licks her lips, and Komaeda takes a visible breath. “Why do you have to hate me?”

 

“Don’t worry about him, Miss Junko,” Souda says, and, making a face that tells her he knows he’s about to die, steers her away from him. 

 

She’s indignant, but doesn’t show it, instead choosing to look up at him with big doe eyes. “Souda, you’re so kind, he upset me sooo much! How can I thank you?” The look on her face tells him she knows exactly how she’s going to do it. She can almost see his heart speed up.

 

He looks completely awestruck as she leans into his arms, pretty solid with muscle, and ghosts her lips up his jaw to his earlobe. His sigh is audible, and she flutters her eyelashes ( _ enhanced with the power of falsies! _ , she says when he asks her about them) against his cheek and kisses just below his ear. “Kazuichi,” she breathes. “Wanna get out of here?”

 

Souda turns red. “Yes!” he says just a little too loudly. “Yes, yes, I do, let’s go, bye Komaeda, see ya later, but you know how it is, right?!” Feeling bold and extremely lucky, he grabs Junko’s hand and tugs her away from their friend; she’s giggling too hard at her own success to protest, and he steers her into his hot rod, a modified minivan with flames painted on the side and exhaust pipes leading out of the sides. She climbs into the passenger seat, crossing her legs and pulling her skirt up her thighs as Souda takes his place on the driver’s side. They both wave cheerily to Komaeda as they pull away; Junko blares a top 40 station and sings along loudly. 

 

She teases him for awhile, dragging her nails up and down his thigh as he drives. His knuckles are white as he grips the wheel. Naturally, she ups her game. 

 

“Souda-kun?” she says quietly. 

 

“Yeah, Miss Junko?” he answers absentmindedly, staring out the windshield at the brights illuminating the road. 

 

“Can you pull over for a second? I think something’s wrong with the car….” 

 

Souda furrows his brow. “What, what’s wrong with the car? I modified this baby perfectly, the fuck do you think I did, mess it up?”

Junko frowns. “Did you just sass me? I said something’s wrong with the fucking car, pull over and look at it!” she snaps. Going white, Souda does as he’s told and pulls over to the side of the road. Junko huffs and unbuckles her seatbelt, opening the door and slamming it behind her as she steps out, and she opens the backseat. “I think something’s wrong back here, can you come help me look?”

 

He takes her place bending over the seats, looking around determinedly to find whatever’s bothering her. “I don’t really see anythin’, are you sure you think somethin’s wrong?” he asks. “I really think everything’s fi-”

 

His next words are cut off by a surprised scream as Junko pushes him down onto the seat, crawling in on top of him and shutting the door behind them. He’s pushed up uncomfortably against the opposite door and she’s straddling his hips, her hands on his biceps. 

 

“Is everything fine now, Souda?” she asks cheerily, tracing a nail along the line of his muscle. 

 

He swallows hard. “Y-yeah, Miss Junko, why wouldn’t it be?” His hands slowly find their way to her waist and she grins, sharklike, and leans in to kiss him deeply. He returns the kiss without second thought, lips moving gently against hers. As usual, she presses him to be rougher, biting at his lips and digging her nails into his upper arms. He gasps as he feels skin break. 

 

“Whatsa matter, Kazuichi?” she teases, using his given name like a bullet to pierce him even further. He groans and his hips shift a little underneath her. She laughs and grinds down against him teasingly and he moans. “Come on, Souda, are you getting into it that quick? I’m dry as a desert, and I can feel your fuckin’ boner!” 

 

He shrinks away in embarrassment. Is she going to punish him? Is she going to leave? “Fuck, please don’t leave, please,” he mumbles. 

 

She rolls her hips a little more forcefully. “What was that?” 

 

“Don’t leave!”

 

“No, the other thing, stupid.”

 

Souda furrows his brows. “Please?” Junko nods and leans in to peck him on the lips. “Okay, um, please, Miss Junko.” 

 

And with that, Junko kisses him as hard as she can, supporting herself with one hand and cupping Souda’s cheek in the other. He breathes out shakily and kisses back, trying his best not to hurt her, even though he knows that’s what she wants. She squeezes his hips with her thighs and he grunts. Her hands find the zipper of his jumpsuit and pull it down as quickly as possible, the loud noise startling him, but she continues on, scratching her nails down his chest and leaving thin pink scratches. He moans pitifully and she snickers. With that, she’s rolling her hips, grinding down into him and digging her nails into his pectorals, and he’s clinging to her like a lifeline, breaking the kiss to turn his head to the side and catch his breath. She attacks his neck with kisses and harsh bites, the skin beneath her teeth reddening and then purpling soon after. 

 

This goes on for ages, Junko loses track of how long, before Souda’s hips are pushing up against hers in a steady rhythm, their heavy breathing the only sounds for miles. She’s mostly silent, giving him judging looks every time the beat stutters, and he’s groaning and clutching onto her for dear life. Her nails scratch him up, leave lines and spatters of pink across his chest and arms, and he takes it all, willing to roll with whatever she gives him; she scratches him harder every time he yelps. 

 

It’s not long after that before his grip tightens and he comes with a shout of her name, arching up off the backseat and sobbing with relief. 

 

She’s frowning when he opens his eyes.

 

“What’s the matter, Miss Junko?” he asks, clearly confused. She gives a meaningful look towards the join of their hips and he recoils. “Oh, shit! You didn’t - ! Shit!” 

 

“Yeah, I didn’t,” she bites. “Are you gonna leave me hanging, or get me off like a good little dog?” 

 

He turns red. “I - what?” A pause, and then: “How do you want me to do it?”

 

“Good boy!” Giggling a little, Junko pulls Souda into a seated position and stands up to slide down her panties. She tosses them to him as she sits on his lap, and cackles as he feels how wet the garment is. To fuck with him (her favorite thing to do), she grinds down on him, loving how he winces with oversensitivity. “Use your fingers? They look thick!”

 

Ever obedient, Souda’s fingers travel clumsily down to the hem of her skirt, and then back up underneath, over her thighs and finally to their join, where he feels something sticky and licks his lips. He’s done this with her a million times, but every time feels like the first. At least, Junko says he’s as awkward every time as if it’s their first. Either way, he’s got to be good now, so he runs his finger along the wetness there, up to her clit, and gently rubs at it with his thumb. She sighs happily, the first really audible noise she’s made this whole time, and he flushes despite himself. 

 

“Is that good, Miss Junko?” he asks, rubbing a little faster. She squeals and clutches tight to his shoulders in lieu of a response. 

 

“Put one in!” she commands. He obeys, pushing his index finger inside of her and (because she’s told him this a million times) doesn’t wait for her to adjust, sliding it back out and then pushing it back in. A beat later, he adds another finger. She moans quietly and buries her face in his neck, whispering soft encouragements. If he were bolder, they both know he’d tease her, or pin her down, or ask her to look at him, but he knows his place. Junko runs the show. Her word is law. 

 

She squeals and moans and shivers, melting more and more the harder he goes. She’s always been a sucker for rough sex, and they both know it. Souda curls his fingers none too gently and she screams and bites his neck and she’s gone, staining the lap of his jumpsuit and piercing the skin next to his jugular. He lets out a sob and carefully removes his fingers, wiping them off on his leg. His suit is going to need to be washed, anyway. 

 

Ordinarily, she would make him drive home like this, one hand off the wheel to staunch the blood, but tonight, she purses her lips and pulls a box of tissues out of her purse. Clicking her tongue, she takes one out and wads it up, pressing it to the bite. It’s bright pink when she changes it out for another one. 

 

“Don’t want you to die!” she says cheerily. “You’d be no fun if you were dead!” 

 

Souda goes white. “I might die?!” he repeats incredulously. 

 

She laughs. “Nope! I didn’t get the big one, you won’t bleed to death!” Another click of the tongue as she dabs away the blood, and she can tell Souda isn’t reassured at all. Junko rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a big baby! You’re gonna be  _ fine! _ Just a mark, okay? You can tell all your friends you banged me and boy, won’t they be impressed?” She snickers and presses a third tissue to the wound.

  
Soon enough, the bleeding’s stopped, and she stands up to pull her panties back on, but stops with them in her hands. “You wanna go again when we get back to school?” she asks casually.

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue:
> 
> Nagito sighed from the parking lot, smiling to himself as the sun seemed to set. "Wow, those two must be having fun." he hummed, pulling out his phone.


End file.
